


Sea Wench

by llyn



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/F, MerMay, MerMay 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 20:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14722703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llyn/pseuds/llyn
Summary: “Haruka,” the mermaid sings, arms draped light around her shoulders, eyes shining up at her in the dark like will-o’-the-wisps, and they say come further out, further still, follow me.“How do you know that name?”“I see you in my dreams.”





	Sea Wench

The boy’s blond head bobbed twice, then slipped under a dark, green wave, though the crew shouted from the deck for him and though they threw out lines better used for their own survival. All came back empty. Through it all, the storm raged with a spurned lover’s jealousy, gulping up the sound of his name in the night and spitting back thunder and rain. 

By morning the sea was calm and bright, but the men could hardly pick up their heads. He was well-loved, that boy. They held rites at noon, and the captain’s saltwater tears rolled unchecked down his leathered face, his hands hanging limp at his sides. 

* * *

She wakes up, groaning, blinking, aching all over and weak, in a cave. There’s a splash, then a wide shell heavy with water is pressed to her lips. It’s fresh. It’s cool, but it spills down her shirt. Haruka grasps the wet fabric with a hiss, tugging it loose from where it clings her chest.

A giggle, then its echo. “You’re safe here. I know your secret.” 

She is a wild beauty. Blinking does not solve her tail, only brings it into sharper focus. 

“It’s rude to stare.” 

“A sea wench?”

“I prefer  _ mermaid _ .” Every word a fish hook, snagging something deep in Haruka’s heart, but--

“I have to get back to my ship.” 

“You can’t.” Of course not. These mermaids, in tales, are cruel. She pouts prettily, brushing her hair back--thick and green as the ocean, with waves to drown in. “The seas are stormy,” she says. Then her eyes lift, sharp, “Stay with me.” 

She leans in close between Haruka’s legs. She’s small, all alone, and those dark eyes. Then her webbed fingers reach up to slip into Haruka’s hair as she slides herself forward, right into her lap. 

Haruka lifts up her hands, innocent, too aware of the sweet weight of her, those wide, slippery hips and those heavy tits pressing wet against her chest. She hasn’t laid eyes--or hands, or lips--on a woman since the  _ Helios _ set sail. She’d spent the night before with a wicked black haired witch and a bright blond goddess of love. At least, that’s how they were advertised. The truth, as usual, was too young and bone-thin and hungry. But they’d had giggles enough in the weather-warped room above the tavern to keep Haruka’s dreams full the long nights since. 

“Haruka,” the mermaid sings, arms draped light around her shoulders, eyes shining up at her in the dark like will-o’-the-wisps, and they say  _ come further out, further still, follow me _ . 

“How do you know that name?”

“I see you in my dreams.”  

She scoffs, “Don’t lie.” Slips a hand down, intending to twist her nipple, to chase her off with this false sweet talk and make demands of her own, but--wouldn’t you know--all that smooth skin under her knuckles distracts her before she can strike. Then the other hand, jealous, joins the fun. Haruka is helpless to stop them. All her life they’ve loved tracing curves just like this. 

The mermaid smirks. “You act tough, but the look on your face right now--”

“Hush.” 

“Go ahead, love. I want to be played with.”

“You’re the one doing the playing here.” 

She hums, liking that very much it seems, and twists in her arms to lean her lovely, bare back against Haruka’s chest, gathering her thick hair to one side as if to offer her neck for a bite. 

It’s tempting. “Get off my lap and answer my questions.” 

Another hum, a hand snaking up to scratch, long-clawed through her hair. “You’re much smarter than a man.” 

“I am a man,” a reflex reaction. How long has she been playing pretend? Long. So that it doesn’t feel like pretend at all. 

But the mermaid laughs at her, “No, you’re not.” A pause, “I don’t like men. And it’s rare, to find a woman at sea.” 

“Aye. On land, too, it’s not much easier.” 

The waves lap against the rocks. There’s a gentle blue glow in the cave from the plankton darting here and there in the shallows. Rocks like steeples reach up, rocks like hot wax drip down. They want to touch. 

Then those hands of Haruka’s--always misbehaving--trace over the pretty maid’s belly, then down her sides to the slickness of scales, then up to feel the weight of those tits and--well--with her hands so busy the rest of Haruka can’t help get involved. She leans down to at last take that bite of pale, glimmering neck the mermaid’s been offering. 

“Finally,” the mermaid says with a shivery voice, arching her back, hands covering Haruka’s to press her tits together, to guide her rope-rough fingers to her pink nipples. 

“Don’t talk,” Haruka tells her, trailing bites up to one pointed ear, “I’m still suspicious.” 

“I can tell.” 

“Thought I hushed you.” She’s light as kelp, easy to pin down to the rocks and hold there, running her tongue from her neck down her chest--salt and sea--and sucking those pink, pert nipples until the cave is filled up with kitten sounds ringing out and returning in echoes. This one hates to be bitten, tail thrashing in the water, head thrashing side to side. Haruka bites her more, rolling a nipple between her teeth, then she tugs. 

The mermaid can curse, as well. 

“Learned your lesson?”

“Kiss me,” is her answer. 

Haruka hesitates. There’s danger in those half-slit eyes. But her lips, like her hands, have always caused trouble for her. 

“What’s your name?” she asks, near enough to her lips to see their green tint, like poison, and yet--

“Michiru.”

She kisses her. She frees the maid’s bangle-wrapped arms and feels them wrap around her tight, rolling her beneath. Haruka doesn’t care--in fact, she hardly notices, caught up chasing her clever tongue. Her toes curl. Her toes change, spread. Her legs, too. Something’s odd, in this kiss. But she doesn’t stop the frenzy of lips and tongue and teeth, either. Above Haruka’s head, their fingers twine together. Haruka’s feel webbed. Or are those hers? 

Michiru releases her, claws ripping her shirt free. That stops Haruka--arms snapping down to cover her chest--it’s a habit as old as she is. She won’t be discovered, won’t be kept from the sea. But there’s no need, here. She sees now how her new tail gleams dark, deep-water blue, cave-colored and long, scales sliding against Michuru’s own pretty tail. Her arms drop. In a moment, she’s become something new. 

“You got me,” Haruka says. How easy she made it, as if it was what she wanted all along. 

Michiru kisses her nose, eyes sparkling, “Oops.” 


End file.
